Y *• 



Author 






Title 



649 
.R69 
Copy 



Imprint. 



THE YOUTH IN THE REBELLION. 



ADDKES'S 



BBFORS 



GEO. H. WARD POST 10, G. A. R. 

JUNE 3, 1883, 



BY 



ALFRED S. ROE. 



THE YOUTH IN THE REBELLION. 



/> 



THE YOUTH IN THE REBELLION 



ADDEESS 



GIVEN BEFORE 



OEO. H. WARD POST 10, G. A. R. 



MECHANICS HALL, WORCESTER, MASS., JUNE 3, 1883, 



ALFEED S. ROE 



(! 



Co. A, 9th N. Y. Heavy Artillery, and Member of Post 



10. 



PRESS OF CHARLES HAMILTON, 

311 Main Street. 

1883. 



6150* 



X 



THE YOUTH IN THE REBELLION 



Commander of Post 10, Comrades, Sons of Veterans, 

Ladies of the Relief Corjys, and Friends: — 

Less than a twelvemonth since, there was enacted, in 
the city hall of Worcester, a scene that deserves a lasting 
place in our memories.^ Grouped about the mayor were a 
score or more of men who had special interest in certain 
bits of w^orn and tattered bunting tjljj^t 'were to be placed 
for safe keeping in a receptacle prepared for them through 
the thoughtfulness of the city's executive. To the casual 
observer these striped and bestarred banners were flags 
only, inspiring no thought of the history connected with 
each fold and thread. But Corporal Rice, who held the 
flag of the 15th, had seen it when rebel lines broke l)efore 
it at Getty si )urg ; Lieut. Barnard, of the 57th, recalled the 
terrible daj^s of the Wilderness, when two hundred and 
fifty of his comrades were killed, wounded or missing ; men 
of the 51st lived over again the campaigns in the Carolinas ; 
on the folds of the flag of the 34th could be read the long, 
weary marches, and the gallant fighting in Western Vir- 
ginia ; Sergeant Putnam, who bore the flag of the 25th, once 
more heard the rebel yell at Cold Harlwr and Petersl^urg ; 
while Sergeant Plunkett of the 21st saw the river and St. 
Mary's Height at Fredericksburg, saw again his three dead 
and six wounded comrades, all beneath those folds, and 
once more beheld his own blood staining that banner a 
deeper crimson, when, his two good arms falling, he became 
the armless hero we know so well. 



' Saturday, December 9, 1882, Elijah B. Stoddard. Mayor. 



6 

Looking beyond the shot-torn banners, we see the heav- 
ing masses that once followed them. Rehabilitated as of 
old, they stand in line, proud of their places, glad to battle 
for God and the right. These flags were new then. From 
tender, delicate hands they passed to the keeping of deter- 
mined soldiers. 

Men do not die for pieces of bunting only. Daily our 
factories can turn out thousands of yards. Alternately 
striped with red and white, with stars clustering on the 
corner field of blue, that object symbolizes all that brave 
men cherish most. Home, wife, children, parents, country, 
all the words that linger longest and sweetest on the lips, 
are suggested in its gorgeous dyes. Under it, the floating 
ship becomes American territory. To its protection have 
fled the oppressed of all nations, and, through the results 
of the civil war, the last mockery of our long-vaunted 
liberty was swept away, and the quondam slave could look 
to it and live. Jealously guarded by valiant hearts, the 
battle-line was formed on it. To the left or right the eyes 
of the advancing soldiers were cast to see that they were 
moving steadily with their colors. If they kept pace with 
the flag, they did their duty, and the true soldier looked 
well to see that he did not leave the field before his 
standard. Its bearer cut down by hostile shot or shell, it 
has been eagerly seized, lest its folds should touch the 
ground, and again borne forward, and, though its guard 
knew that death was the lot of him who bore it, yet it 
wanted not a bearer. " There, come up to that !" said the 
color-sergeant of the Massachusetts Ninth at Fredericks- 
burg, as he placed his colors far in advance of his wavering 
regiment, and, filled with enthusiasm at the deed of their 
gallant comrade, the men rallied and conquered. When 
all but honor was lost the flag has been concealed on the 
person of its keeper, and there hidden from foeman's eyes 
all through the horrors of Libby and Andersonville, till a 
return to lil)erty has permitted its unfurling. To prevent 



its capture or soiling, its custodian has wrapped it about 
himself, and, though weak and wounded, crawled on hands 
and knees to friendly lines. Looking towards it as borne 
steadily forward, the eyes of the dying soldier have grown 
bright, and the dews of death could not quench his joy at 
its triumphant progress. In danger, all thoughts of self 
were lost, in the great agony lest the colors should be dis- 
graced. Said the brave Mulligan at Winchester, as dying 
he was carried from the field, " Lay me down and save the 
flag." " Defend your colors ; rally about them !" was long 
the cry in battle till the tuneful Eoot made the words the 
refrain in 

" Rally round the flag, boys, 
Rally once again," 

and to-day two of our New England States^ boast that no 
flag of theirs was ever touched by rebel hands. As the 
Spartan mother gave into the hands of her son the shield, 
with the injunction to return with it or upon it, so the 
federal soldier felt that the flag intrusted to him was a 
charge to be defended with his life. Said Governor 
Andrew to Colonel Jones, of the immortal Sixth, "This 
flag. Sir, take and bear with you. It will be an emblem 
on which all eyes will rest, reminding you always of that 
which you are to hold most dear." In reply, the colonel 
said : " Your Excellency, you have given to me this flag, 
which is the emblem of all that stand before you. It 
represents my entire command, and, so help me God, I 
will never disgrace it." Through the tumult, strife and 
bloodshed of Baltimore that flag was carried unsullied, 
adding new glories to the 19th of April, on to make safe 
the nation's capital. And then returning, it was placed 
beneath the dome of our state house, at the left of the 
statue of our beloved Andrew, ever to memorialize one of 
the proudest pages in the history of our commonwealth. 
To-day the visitor at our capitol makes haste to see 



' Maine and Vermont. 



8 

the shredded cloth, the shattered stafts which, in silent 
eloquence, tell of the valor and devotion of the sons of 
Massachusetts. 

These sons came from every walk and pursuit in life. 
Count de Rochambeau, many years before, had said, "In 
America men of every trade are soldiers, but none are 
soldiers by trade." Responding to the call of the Presi- 
dent they have assembled and sworn (seemingly an unneces- 
sary act) allegiance to the government. In uniform, now 
see them as they are drawn up for their last parade before 
departure. The mayor, the governor, or some other dis- 
tinguished citizen has taken the finely-wrought banner from 
the fair hands that fashioned it and, in eloquent words, has 
given it to the regiment. The colonel has responded in 
fitting language. The officers have taken their posts, the 
men face to the right and with banners flying and drums 
beating are ofi" for the front. Perhaps, as they march 
away, they keep time to the stirring notes of "John 
Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave," and the 
heart beats fast to see them go. Note them as they pass. 
Here is one who fought with Taylor and Scott in Mexico. 
He may have walked in triumph the halls of the Monte- 
zumas. The next early strayed from home, and, fighting 
against savage Indians, learned the art of war. There is 
one, a canny Scotchman, who followed Sir Colin Campbell 
up the steep redoubt at Alma. Some have grown old in 
wars in this or other lands, the death shot, soon to fall, will 
make the " last of many scars," but in the light elastic step 
of most we see certain evidence of youth. The average age 
is twenty-five years, but many still are lads. In our passing 
regiment are more than three hundred soldiers who, in the 
eyes of the law, are boys. The hands that to-day grasp 
the musket so firmly, but yesterday held the text-book. 
From the plough and the machine shop, the office and the 
school, they have come to learn grand, stern lessons in 
war. There are boys on whose lips has not yet appeared 



9 

that which proclaims them men. A fond mother's kiss has, 
lately, left its impress on that boy's downy cheek ; but in 
his bosom there beats a heart that is devoted to country, 
and for it he is willing to die. To the camp and the march 
he is to lend relief through his undaunted spirit. He 
knows that dear ones are looking with tearful eyes as he 
marches by ; but he chokes down his own rising sobs, that 
he may not add further grief to those who love him. 
Company after company passes. The same story of middle 
age and youth is told o'er and o'er. There are the joyous 
shouts and hurrahs of those who go not unmingled with 
the tears and sobs of those to l)e l)ereft. There are the 
waving of handkerchiefs, the last fond glance, through tear- 
bedimmed eyes, and the regiment has passed. Faintly 
and still more faintly come the strains of martial music, 
long after the tramp of marching feet has ceased. A turn 
in the street has hidden the oiScers riding so proudly and 
the Hags floating so grandly. And so they passed. In 
every city in our northern land the scene was constantly 
repeated. All leaned forward anxiously, nay joyously, to 
see the heroes forward marching ; but to many came this 
sad thought, "These can not all return." Never again 
will all those o-allant forms move forward toarether. The 
vicissitudes of war will thin those ranks. Again and again 
will the church l)e opened for the last sad rites over the 
dead returning. A new mound in the cemetery and a 
simple headstone will tell the brief story of him Avho dared 
to risk his all. 

But it is with the boys who left home and friends for the 
harsh experience of a soldier's life that we have to do to- 
night, and our theme is 

THE YOUTH IX THE EEBELLIOX ; WHAT HE DID AND WHAT 
HE LEARNED. 

It was loyalty that took him from the paternal roof and 
prompted him to don the patriotic blue. It is possible that 



10 

the thought that in future years he would not have to give 
reasons and excuses why he was not in the army may have 
had weight. Be that as it may, from his books and 
teachers, from home lessons, he had early learned of strifes 
long past. An old, rusty musket, a strangely-fashioned 
sword, or, perhaps, a bit of long-unused uniform, had 
proclaimed to his childish mind the patriotism of some 
ancestor in generations past. Doubtless these garments 
had been donned and the weapons shouldered in vain 
imitation of him whose history was linked with years 
agone. All this had sowed the seed ; but now had come a 
time for active, vigorous movement. Loyalty was no 
longer a thing of memory ; but it was for the youth him- 
self to count his day a fortunate one, since it fell on times 
when he, too, might form a part of history and prove his 
love for native land. 

How high sits hope on his manly brow, as he steps 
proudly off, and, in his zeal, he almost forgets, for the 
moment, the bleeding hearts behind him. He has not yet 
reached the age when he must think of those dependent 
upon him ; but he has a tender place in his breast for those 
who love and have cared for him. His is not the tender 
solicitude of the father who anxiously wonders how the 
mouths of his babes will be tilled, and who devoutly 
breathes a prayer that the all-seeing Father will befriend 
them. With no such distracting care upon him, the boy 
soldier was the life of the camp ; he relieved the march of 
half its tedium, and when the battle's din arose, no voice 
amidst all the shout higher than his was heard. From 
whose tent was it that the song started whose refrain 
banished care and sorrow? Whose indeed, but that of 
those boys who, in school, had resolved to enlist together, 
and now make the welkin ring with the notes of JJpidee, 
or is it the still more rollickino; ' ' Finneo-an's Wake ?" 
And, before they are done, the whole camp will resound 
with " When Johnny comes marching home again." One 



11 

day, we all remember it, the dust was thick ; the sun shone 
hot ; the march had begun long before daybreak ; we had 
halted the briefest time possible for breakfast. Noon was 
approaching, and still no pause. Foot-sore and weary the 
long line winds along, without system, without order, 
straggling even begins, when some careless boy, whom 
fatigue has not suppressed, strikes up, "Pop Goes the 
Weasel." The notes give renewed strength to the wearied 
limbs, and the delighted ear sends a gladsome message to 
all the memliers of the tired body. A quicker pace, a 
more orderly line, a better natured lot of men was the 
result of this brief, boyish freak ; and when, finally, the 
regiment bivouacked, and the older men, too weary for 
aught else, threw' themselves upon the ground, these boys 
kindled fires, filled canteens, made the cofiee, made life 
endurable. Active and alert when on the march, full of 
pranks and music when in camp, he was no laggard when 
his line advanced amid whistling bullet and hurtling shell. 
Robert Hendershot crosses the Rappahannock in spite of the 
opposition of his superiors, clinging to the stern of the boat, 
wet to the w^aist. His drum shot to pieces, he grasps a 
musket and secures a confederate prisoner. Returning, 
General Burnside says, "Boy, I glory in your spunk; if 
you keep on in this way a few years, you will be in my 
place." Johnny Clem, the ten-year-old drummer boy from 
Newark, Ohio, beats the long roll, throws away his drum, 
finds a gun, kills a rebel colonel who summons him to 
surrender, and is by General Rosecrantz made a sergeant 
on the field of battle. Boy Britain nobly seconds his com- 
mander when the federal flotilla sweeps into the battle 
storm of grim Fort Henry. Clustering curls conceal his 
youthful brow, his face is beardless ; but always comes his 
cheerful " Aye, aye, sir !" as he heeds his captain's orders ; 
and when, amid fiiUing heroes, he, too, yields up his spirit, 
his shot-marred form is the most precious oflering made 



12 

upon the bloody deck of the Essex. Willie Grout^ was 
but 18 when he entered his country's service. " Many,", 
said he, " that are perfectly able to go are very brave and 
forward till it comes their turn ; then it is another story. 
They need something to stir them up." "Tell Company 
D that I should have escaped but I am shot," were his last 
words as he sank beneath the discolored waters of the 
Potomac on that dread day of Ball's BluiF. Who can tell 
how many were stirred to manly deeds by the death of this 
young hero? It was sad when, by the fortunes of war, 
our boy became a prisoner. Like a bird he chafed in his 
confinement : but still he endured its risrors much l^etter 
than those who had fully reached man's estate. From the 
field of capture to the nearest railroad station there Avere 
often many miles of forced marching, but with blistered 
feet he bravely holds on his way. Tears may force their 
way down his cheek ; but no word of complaint passes his 
compressed lips. The prison is reached. Is it the tobacco 
warehouse of Richmond, Lynchburg or Danville, or is it 
the stockade of Saulsbury or Andersonville ? In either 
event he is to enter upon a life whose horrors no pen is 
adequate to describe. If in the storehouse he is debarred 
from the sight even of the heavens through jealous watchers 
who are ready to shoot him who nears a Avindow. Through 
weary days he Avanders aimlessly from point to point in his 
prison-house. Always hungry, till tired nature, at last 
ceasing to crave, he yields to death and is buried, it may 
be in a nameless grave. ' Or, perchance, attacked by fever, 
he lies on the floor of his prison, racked by pain, attended 
only by those Avho can do l)ut little for huu. All the long; 
night hours we hear him piteously calling for mother and 
sister. As his mind Avanders there passes before him the 
scenes of his earlier days. He is again in the green fields, 
beside the running waters, and Ave listen as he talks to 



Co. D, 15th Mass. Infantry 



13 

those who, in fancy, accompany him. Soon, however, 
comes the end, and we bid " good-bye " to his lifeless body, 
never to be wept over by those who loved him. If in the 
stockade, alternately frozen and burned, consumed by 
hunger and thirst, in danger from him who guarded the 
dead line, and in equal danger from hard-hearted fellow- 
prisoners, his life Avas a burden. But through all this, the 
youth passed Avith less injury than the man whose habits 
had been completely formed and whose mind was beset 
with anxiety over dependent ones at home. Thirty thou- 
sand men now survive of the one hundred and six thousand 
who suffered imprisonment ; forty thousand succumbed 
while in the hands of the rebels ; six thousand died within 
a very few weeks of their release, and between the time of 
their discharge and the present thirty thousand more have 
answered to the roll-call on the other side. It is a safe 
estimate that live-sixths of those who are alive to-day 
had not seen their 21st birthday W'hen the prison doors 
or gates closed upon them. To those who lived the 
day came at last when the prison bars were burst, 
and weak, faint and dying the famished ones were sent 
towards their homes. Many, too weak for the effort, were 
left on prison floors or beside the loathsome pits in which 
they had lived for months, and from which they barely had 
strength to crawl ^vhen the joyous announcement of ex- 
change w^as heard. Upon one transport that carried men 
from Richmond to Aiken's Landing were three dead Union 
soldiers, whom comrades had helped aboard, but who could 
not live till the Union lines were reached. Were the sea 
not trackless, we could mark the paths of steamers that 
bore prisoners from Wilmington, Charleston and Savannah, 
by the whitening bones of those who found ocean graves 
on their homeward journey. 

But in all this wild whirl of war, it was not altogether 
give on the part of our youthful soldier. He was the 



14 

recipient of many a valuable lesson, learned willingly or 
otherwise. First, he came to know the value of 

PHYSICAL DISCIPLINE. 

Army life afforded him a drill that no other school could 
possibly have given. Attention to details is a most desira- 
ble trait, but one that more people lack than possess ; but 
here he speedily learned that there were, practically, no 
little things. Everything was of importance. His arms 
and equipments must be kept bright and burnished and his 
own person neat and tidy. Attention to signals gave him 
an alert and watchful air. Drill gave to his form an erect 
and manful bearing. Without the annoying minutire of 
the British army, our soldier learned that conformity to 
requirements made him a more reliable man. The enforced 
out-ot-doors life speedily banished all the complaints inci- 
dent to the largely artificial ways of modern living. An 
abundant though coarse fare became more palatable than 
many a costly viand eaten since, for food had then these 
items most essential to enjoyment, healthy hunger and an 
excellent stomach. This life and regimen gave to the city 
boy, lately pale and thin, a soundness and strength aston- 
ishing to himself. 

To these men, drawn from every rank and station, mili- 
tary life promised the utmost satisfaction to personal ambi- 
tion. It is a laudable thing to desire to lead men. Napo- 
leon's soldiers knew that, in every knapsack, there was the 
possibility of a marshal's baton, and so our soldiers knew 
that duty faithfully performed, that bravery in the face of 
danger, must bring their reward. These men were no 
machine soldiers collected hy a tyrannical Frederick 
William, for their stature or breadth of shoulders, nor yet 
the hinds who constitute so large a part of the rank and file 
of the British army. Never yet, not even in our Revolu- 
tion, had men been gathered together where so large a 
share were prepared to step into any and all vacant places. 



15 

The war was not waged to a successful conclusion by 
martinets simph'. The men who moved forw^ard blindly, 
through morass and over walls, simply because they heard 
a command and no countermand, were not the best soldiers. 
The machine men, who came to these shores in the days of 
the French and Indian wars and declared that the natives 
did not conform to the usages of war in taking aim, were 
as regular as clockwork in their movements. They 
brought their firelocks to their hips and fired, when told to 
do so, and then, in unison, they loaded and fired again, 
and rare sport such fighting was to the men who wei-e 
accustomed to make every shot tell. These men could do 
what they were told to do, and nothing more. Our 
average soldier was capable of stepping from the ranks to a 
command, and frequently did so. AVhen detailed for 
particular service, as he often w'as, he was given discre- 
tionary powers, and seldom, indeed, was it that regret over 
such delegated authorit\' arose. He was not an illiterate, 
unthinking Hodge, but a man w^ho could see a newsboy a 
long distance ofl:\ and one to whom the postman's coming 
was of the utmost importance. He w^as a man who would 
not makc'war a profession, l)ut who simply found himself 
temporarily carrying a gun and performing military duties, 
looking forward to a successful ending, and the return of 
himself to secular pursuits, yet knowing his danger and not 
unwillinolv ofterino- himself, if need be, on the altar of the 
nation's defense. In all cases, our soldier was taught to 
value his self-respect. Liable at any time to be called 
to command liis associates, he naturally strove to merit 
their good opinions. There was no purchasing of commis- 
sions, that strangest of all things in the organization of the 
British army, — and that men should steadily win victories 
in the face of such a monstrosity, is the most flattering 
comment that can possibly be made on the fighting quali- 
ties of the Anglo-Saxon, for only when faced l^y men of 
the same race, as in the Eevolution and 1812, has the 



16 

English army been overcome. Says a writer:^ "The 
rank and file are drawn from the dregs of the population, 
and the officers are selected from the upper classes, undergo 
no preliminary training, and purchase their commissions." 
Till recently, there was for the common soldier the 
whipping post for his oflienses, and for his bravery a paltry 
bauble in the way of a cross, or at best a chevron. He 
might not aspire to a command. Private John Penn of the 
17th Lancers struck down two Russian adversaries single- 
handed in that wonderful charge of the Light Brigade. 
Upon his breast, shone already eleven decorations, telling 
of former prowess ; but to what good ? The best swords- 
man in his regiment, there was no place to which he might 
aspire. The Germans would have taken such a man from 
the ranks and sent him to a military school, where he 
might be fitted for the position that his bravery merited.^ 
The only Englishman who perfectly knew his men was 
Oliver Cromwell, and his was the best organized force that 
ever fought on English shores. He rewarded bravery with 
promotion, and his Ironsides will long live the proudest of 
Britain's soldiery. With us, too, was the same idea 
current, and many a boy who marched away with a gun in 
his hand returned with the shoulder-straps of a major or a 
colonel. To our well-disciplined soldier, then, there was 
ever present the thought that for his bravery, his faithful- 
ness, there might come what had come to many another 
valiant comrade, a commission. 

OBEDIENCE. 

No man can fitly and properly command others till he 
has himself thoroughly learned the part of obeying. The 



' E. L. Godkin, N. Y. Nation, Vol. 4, p. 415. 

^ Had he been a soldier of any other army in the world than that of 
England, humbly born though he is, he would have been promoted to 
rank and have other honors conferred upon him than the medals and 
clasps that cover his breast.^Nolan's "War against Eussia," Vol. 1, 
p. 552, 



17 

best master is he who has been himself a servant. Our 
government illustrates this in sending to West Point and 
Annapolis young men who there, in addition to mere tech- 
nical education, learn what absolute compliance with orders 
means. The civilian commander who did not rise from the 
ranks, or from a low commission, lost one of the most 
salutary parts of the lessons in his service, and herein lies, 
perhaps, the secret of the ignoble failures of many who, on 
account of political prominence, stepped at once into the 
highest places in the army. They had not learned to obey. 
There was not in them that humility which accompanies all 
real greatness. In the true soldier's mind no thought 
should be harbored but that of implicit, com]3lete obedience, 
and by " soldier" is meant not only him whom we dub a 
private, but him alsp upon whose shoulders appear the 
insignia of rank. No paltry consideration of loyalty to a 
particular commander should outweigh the far higher claim 
of country. Immediate attention to orders should be the 
aim of every soldier, and, though certain defeat may stare 
him in the face, that is no concern of his. In the heroism 
of many a lost field has been sowed the seed of subsequent 
victories. Wood, at Chickamauga, putting in his pocket 
the order of Rosecrans, and trying to do as he was bid, is 
laudable. Sherman, committing to writing his objections 
to the assault at Vicksburg, and yet leading none the less 
gallantly the subsequent day, is deserving of all praise. 
Then that grandest instance, " When shall its glory fade?" 
The inspiration given through that mistaken order at 
Balaklava has carried many a column over obstacles high 
and strong to certain victory. Far from being lost the 
ringino; shovit of the advance has long outlasted the confu- 
sion of retreat. In all history there is not a grander figure 
than that of Nolan, as he placed himself with those who 
rode through mistake to certain death. What though 
Cardigan knew "some one had blundered;" " his not to 
reason why, his not to make reply," but as he interpreted 
2 



18 

the order so he acted. That noble brigade did not finish 
the charge when on and through the ' ' Russian line they 
broke." True, the poet says, " and then they rode back ;" 
but rather let us say that they rode on and on and that 
their memory has become to all armies a quenchless 
oriflamme. Nolan fell in the early moments of the charge, 
but Cardigan rode forward and back, with that brave line 
of men behind and beside him. No court of inquiry has 
ever charged him with dishonor, much less proved it. He 
with his Six Hundred will live along the ages with those 
who are not born to die. Mark the words of the soldier : 
"I received the order to attack, and although I should not 
have thought of making such an attack without orders, and 
although I diflered in opinion as to the propriety of the 
order, I promptly obeyed. I placed myself at the head of 
my regiment and gave the word of command."^ 

The annals of time do not present a more abject sight 
than that of the dilatory commander endeavoring to excuse 
his own remissness by charging his superior officer with 
ignorance of the situation, and hoping to prove his charge 
by the testimony of men who were in the enemy's lines. 
Had there been no Mad Anthony Waynes willing to ' ' storm 
Hell" even, if the attack were planned by a Washington, 
neither our own nor any other war could have been waged 
to a successful ending. 

One million seven hundred and eighty thousand one 
hundred and seventy-three different men served, first and 
last, on the Union side during the rebellion. They repre- 
sented two millions seven hundred and seventy-two thou- 
sand four hundred and eioht enlistments. Of these men it 
is estimated that one million are living to-day. What kind 
of citizens are they? Did the war make them any less 
reliable as farmers, mechanics, merchants or professional 
men? Speaking as an ex-soldier to Grand Army men I 
may safely answer, No. Turn where we may we find the 

'Nolan's " Wax* against Eussia." 



19 

veteran filling places of honor and trust, nor has the govern- 
ment that he defended forgotten him. Men may say that 
republics are ungrateful, but we, as survivors of the 
greatest struggle of modern times, should disprove the 
statement. If it is meant that our nation has not singled 
out a Churchill, Nelson, or Wellesley, to make of them 
Marlboroughs, Trafalgars and ^^'ellingtons : if she has not 
changed a plain Garnet Wolseley into a viscount or a duke, 
adding to these names vast sums of money, then might the 
charge hold good. Our nation has done much better. 
She h^s averaged her honors and gifts as no other country 
or people ever did. Grant, Hayes and Gai-field are the 
generals successively elected to the chief position in the 
nation's gift since the war. Scarcely a State that was loyal, 
during the rebellion has failed to make at least one ex- 
soldier her governor. From INIaine with her Connor and 
Davis, New Hampshire with brave Walter Harrimau, 
Massachusetts ^vith General Butler, Rhode Island with 
Burnside, Connecticut with the gallant Hawley, New York 
with John A. Dix, Pennsylvania with Geary and Hart- 
ranft, Ohio with Noyes and Hayes, to Illinois, with Ogilsby 
and Palmer, and thence across the continent, we shall not 
find many States that have not remembered those who went 
forth from them as soldiers. The voices of Burnside, 
Logan, INIitchell and Hawley in the United States senate, 
with those of Farnsworth, Rosecrans, Lyman, Lovering 
and McCook in the house, tell us that the people are alive 
to the sacrifices made for them in the dark days of national 
peril. Service in the army has been almost the only 
"open sesame" to places of trust and emolument under 
the general government. The soldier, however, who came 
home determined to live on the suffrages of his fellow- 
citizens made the great mistake of his life. Public office, 
of whatever kind, is at the liest a poor, uncertain source of 
living, and he who from having had his needs supplied 
from government sources formerly, is eternally seeking 



20 

some excuse to get more from the same supply, is unworthy 
the badge he wears. 

Horace Greeley once said that many men were reared 
with the one purpose of boring gimlet holes into the public 
treasury, and then as rapidly as possible of enlarging them 
into auger holes. The laborer is worthy of his hire, and 
with our eyes open we accepted the service and the com- 
pensation. Long since the accounts were nominally closed, 
but there are some, too many by far, who can not to-day 
perform any task, however trivial, without demanding 
extra compensation on account of army life years ago. 
Such men utterly failed to learn the prime lesson that 
should have come from that service, viz., manly, constant, 
self-dei)endence. What shall we say of the man who is to- 
day, twenty or more years after the alleged event, endeav- 
oring to secure affidavits that he was sun-struck? Or of 
another outwardly and always well and hearty, suddenly 
falling into a decline on the passage of the Arrears of Pen- 
sions act? No man should stultify himself, either in 
receiving or in aiding another to get a pension for other 
than the most apparent reason ; one that he is willing all 
his neighbors should know ; one that he would not be 
ashamed to sec bulletined in the post-office or published in 
his newspaper. He who would have that which he esteems 
the ornament of life, and yet is unwilling to have it known 
why he received it, must " live a coward in his own 
esteem." The soldiers themselves never asked for the 
arrears of pensions bill. A gang of agents, lobbyists, 
harpies, persuaded congress that there was a tremendous 
pressure demanding this, and finally our highest legislative 
body, nominally to satisfy the soldiers, really to enrich the 
agents, passed this act, taking at one grasp $27,000,000 
from the treasury, more by far than all the gifts made by 
England, a grateful monarchy, to Marlborough, Wellington 
and Wolseley, however enormous the amount. The two 
countries have uniformly pursued very diflerent courses in 



21 

their treatment of soldiers. England selects some one con- 
spicuous officer and on him lavishes her favors without 
stint or reason. Her Nelsons and Wellesleys are note- 
worthy figures ; but how about the private, the lower 
officers, the man Avho really did the fighting? Let him 
serve his active life and she will retire him to a home for 
worn out soldiers and sailors, for which privilege, however, 
he has been paying all the time of his service, ))y enforced 
stoppage of a portion of his pay, the whole of which is the 
merest pittance.^ The United States is the first country to 
acknowledge the paramount importance of the enlisted 
man, and in her annual pension disbursement of over 
$50,000,000, tells the world what she thinks of those who 
fought for her. Yet we are told that republics are 
ungrateful. From a pension of $72 a moijth for those who 
are entirely helpless, she scales the sum down to four dolUirs, 
and pays this, too, from the day of the man's discharge. 
She has established homes for the helpless veterans, and at 
Togus, Dayton, Hampton and Milwaukee, two thousand six 
hundred and forty-eight worn out men are maintained at 
government expense. Nor are they forced to lose their 
individuality, to become mere parts in one great machine, 
but they have a home, luxurious almost, subjected to the 
very lightest restraint possible. Whatever may be said 
of republics in the past or of those in other parts of the 
world, the reproach has no application to ours. It seems 
to be the fixed purpose that no maimed or feeble veteran 
should want. For this determination we have tlie utmost 
admiration. 

Says General Grant : ' ' No pension can compensate the 
men who have lost one or more limbs, and I should have 
been glad to see that class of pensioners well provided for, 
instead of the indiscriminate pensioners, some of whom are, 
physically, as good as they would have l)een if the war had 



' Vide " Chelsea," Chambers' Encyclopaedia. 



22 

never been fought." It is this class of men who have 
brought odium upon their deserving brothers. There are 
soldiers whose bodies show honorable scars, who are 
maimed in hand or foot, who, to-day, walking with halting 
footstep through the results of sickness in the army, will 
not move in the matter of pensions, lest they be classed in 
the list of grabbers. There are other men who go so far as 
to desire indiscriminate pensioning of certain classes, say 
of those who were for six months or more prisoners of war. 
Why confine it there? Why not make it two months, two 
days ? But why prisoners only ? Why not as well pension 
every one, nominally a soldier, whether he saw the enemy 
or not, or whether he ever carried a gun? A pitiable 
sight, truly, is that of the man who, having had public aid, 
lies down helplessly and whines over his woes, real and 
imaginary, has in succession all the ills that flesh is heir to, 
and can not or will not find an opportunity to help himself. 
Characteristics have changed much if such a man was any 
great advantage to his regiment. Let every ex-soldier 
present count up the men who "skirmished to the rear" 
when the fight began, and he will get a near estimate of 
those who to-day pick the public goose in the way of pen- 
sions for other cause than wounds or generally acknowl- 
edged disability. Out upon such infamous acts ! What ! 
fight to free an enslaved race, follow the flag and wear the 
blue for two, three, four years, and then come home to 
become public burdens ! to become a prey to imaginary 
ills ! to become beggars in deed if not in name, in seeking 
to get a living in any other way than earning it ! to stand 
mendicant-like with outstretched hand and importunate, 
insatiate, unceasingly to cry "give." Death on the field 
of battle had been far preferable. Let the $550,000,000 
already expended in pensions be a suflicient answer to 
those who would carp at our government, and a monument 
through all time to the munificence of our republic. The 
people have made presidents, governors, senators and rep- 



23 

resentatives of their sons and brothers, and to the maimed 
and feeble the government has given more than was ever 
given by any country before to those who survived her 
wars. 

Our soldier boys left their homes, performed the duties 
of camp life, endured the fatigue of long marches, fought 
the battles bravely, and when the fight was done, grown to 
be men, came marching home with glad and gallant tread. 
"Not all of them," some lone and sad hearted mother will 
say; "My darling brother came not back to me," some 
stricken one will murmur here to-night. 

Those sixty-one thousand and more who fell in battle, the 
more than thirty-four thousand who died from wounds, 
the one hundred and eighty-three thousand who perished 
of disease, must have been some one's sons and brothers. 
Each heart has its own precious memory as it calls up, to- 
night, the loved face, and lives over again those glad 
years of boyhood. Then they follow the loved form down 
to the scene of strife ; they hear the din of battle ; they see 
the rushing charge. In quick succession passes the wild 
panorama ; but how quickly all the scene narrows to one 
prostrate, motionless form ! " My boy !" " My brother !" 
In a shallow grave his body lies ; dead in all his grace and 
comeliness. Or from the dreary prison cell he was carried 
to his hallowed bed. How many bereaved hearts can 
repeat with Mrs. Browning : 

At first happy news came in gay letters, moiled 

With my kisses, of camp life and glory, and how 
They both loved me, and soon coming home to be spoiled. 
In return would fan off every fly from my brow 
With their green laurel bough. 

What's art for a woman ? To hold on her knees 

Both darlings ! To feel all their arms round her throat 
Cling, strangle a little to sew by degrees, 
And 'broider the long clothes and neat little coat ; 
To dream and to dote. 

To teach them— it stings there. I made them indeed 

Speak plain the word '* country." I taught them no floubt 



24 

That a country's a thiiig men should die for at need. 
I prated of libert}^ rights, and about 
The tyrant cast out. 

And when their eyes flashed ! Oh my beautiful eyes ! 

I exulted ! nay, let them go forth at the wheels 
Or the guns and denied not, but then the surprise 
When one bits quite alone ! then one weeps, then one kneels ! 
God ! how the house feels. 



Dead ! One of them shot by the sea in the east, 
And one of them shot in the west by the sea. 
Dead, both my boys. 



O Christ of the seven wounds, who look'dst through the dark 

To the face of thy mother ! consider, I pray. 
How we common mothers stand desolate ; mark 
Whose sons, not being Christ's, die with eyes turned away 
And no last word to say. 

But no one of these sad hearts denied for a moment, to 
those whose sons returned, the supreme joy and gladness 
that ruled the hour. With what a jaunty air those soldiers 
march on their return ! They come with victory inscribed 
upon their banners. Tattered and torn, rent and gashed in 
battles fought, their banners bear the names of places made 
famous by heroic deeds. Faces are bronzed and bearded 
that four years since were so young and fair. The popu- 
lace throngs the streets. Fathers and mothers who breathe 
a prayer of thanksgiving that the long anxiety is over, look 
with pride on their brave one marching hy, or sigh for him 
in his southern grave. Boys and girls jostle each other as 
they strive to get a nearer view of the elder brother, who 
is now coming home to them. Thus the last march is had, 
the final parade is made, ranks are broken, and the citizen 
soldier again becomes a part of the great body politic, 
whence he a few years before emerged. Assimilated in 
that grand aggregate he enters with new zeal upon the life 
before him. The whole nation seemingly leaps forward at 
this wonderful accession of strength and energy, and at 
once enters upon a career of enterprise and prosperity 
eclipsing all that the world had seen before. Proud as was 



25 

his record in the field, grander still have been his achieve- 
ments in the domain of peace. He has proved to manldnd 
that a soldier to-day, he can be the most progressive citizen 
to-morrow. No standing army, consuming the substance 
of the laborer, is necessary here. No subjecting the 
whole male populace to military drill and an enforced 
service will be tolerated, when a breath only will fan the 
fires of patriotism, where millions of freemen stand ready to 
fight for their rights. 

Thus may it ever be ; but comrades, the time approaches 
when such scenes as this of to-night must be left for others 
to behold. Other times and other hands have, for a 
season, strewn flowers over the patriots' graves, and spoken 
words of praise for fallen comrades ; but after years of 
interim the veterans have passed away, the battles they 
fought have become a part of musty history. Few can tell 
for whose memory Collins wrote : 

" How sleep the brave who sink to rest, 
Bj' all their country's wishes blest." 

The words of Thuycidides concerning those who fell in 
the First Winter, have for ages been a model for him who 
would describe patriotic devotion, but the facts, centuries 
since, faded into oblivion, along with the people who first 
heard them recited. Those iuimital)le words of Lincoln at 
Gettysburg must, in time, lose much of their significance. 
Monuments and memory must alike perish. When this 
time comes it will matter little to the man who did his 
duty when country called him. New times, new men, 
must develop new deeds, and new memories must follow 
them. One day passing, another succeeds. To us, how- 
ever, this memorial exercise is just as important as though 
it were the only one in all the long years of history. 
While we live it must not lapse into forgetfulness. 

Long since the Grand Army of Napoleon joined its mighty 
leader on the other side. Marshals of the empire, generals. 



26 

soldiers — all slept the last sleep ; but legend says that 

" At midnight from his grave 

The drummer woke and rose ; 
And beating loud his drum, 
Forth on his round he goes. 

" Stirred by his fleshless arms 
His drum-sticks patly fall. 
He beats the loud ' retreat ' 
'Reveille' and 'roll-call.' 

"So strangely rolls that drum, 
So deep it echoes round — 
Old soldiers in their graves 
To life start at the sound. 

" And at midnight, from his tomb, 
The chief awoke and rose; 
And, followed by his staff, 
"With slow steps on he goes. 

•• The ranks present their arms ; 
Deep roll the drums the while ; 
Kecovering then, the troops 
Before the chief defile. 

" Captains and generals round, 
In circled form appear ; 
The chief, to the first a word — 
Then whispers in his ear. 

" The word goes round the ranks. 
Resounds along the Seine — 
The word they give is — ' France,' 
The Answer — ' St. Hglene.' 

" 'Tis thus at midnight's hour 
The grand review, they say. 
Is by dead Caesar held 
In the Chaiup d'Elysees." 

A grander army than ever Caesar or Napoleon led is 
passing ! Why not summon from their final sleep that part 
which years ago fell out of line, and again, to-night, 
present unbroken ranks? Let our great Commander-in- 
Chief^ start from the sleep on which he fell nearly a score 



' Suspended in Mechanics Hall are life-size portraits of Lincoln, 
Garfield, and George H. Ward, Colonel of the 15th Mass. He was 
killed at Gettysburg. In front of Lincoln's picture were seated 503 
pupils of the High School. 



27 

of years ago, and with kindly eye look over this array of 
youth, the hope of the future, upon us who will once more 
"fall in." Garfield, on phantom steed, once more rides 
that terrible race with death to the side of Thomas, making 
that Eock of Chickamauga henceforth a foundation stone in 
history. Stand down ! ye living ones. The head of the 
line belongs to those who died on the battlefield, and from 
Ball's Blufi", Antietam, Koanoke, Cedar Creek, Gettysburg 
they trooping come. Dress well your lines, for no tyro in 
drill looks down upon you. 

Colonel Ward, the regiment awaits your command I 
Mark the kindling eye of the soldier as he draws his long 
sheathed sword, and, as of yore, the men respond to his 
word. 

Once a year, then, comrades, let us keep this parade. 
Keep the memories green, and, as year after year, more 
flowers are needed, more graves are covered, we will 
remember that the time is nearing when, on the other 
shore, all battles fought, life's warfare over, young and old, 
we, together, shall to the call of the Supreme Commander 
answer: "Here!" 




Iver to 



Loan Division 



9 



nn No.0137-No.l7 
11/53 



